I am struggling to find words to express exactly how much I absolutely, totally, completely and utterly Do Not Care about the royal engagement. Not at all. And yet it’s already interfering with my life. My day usually starts with the Today programme, Humphries et al telling me whats going on in the world and with any luck, getting stuck into some pompous politician or fat cat. This morning, I stood about 10 minutes of wedding plans, wedding implications, wedding memories, wedding waffle before I had to get up.

Every newspaper headline, every overheard chat on the tram. At least when I finally got to work the discussion was brief and entirely focussed on whether we would get a day off for it. The Daily Mail website is like an orgasm in HTML form. Having never quite accepted that Diana was dead and never coming back, they’ve finally found her replacement. She’s even wearing her ring! Maybe that’s just necessity – wearing a second hand ring, rather than splashing out 50 quid at Elizabeth Duke in Argos is just good sense, financially.

Ahhh, finance. My cynical senses started twitching almost immediately. Just how much is it going to bloody cost? In terms of policemen, nurses and libraries, I mean. Obviously, as we’re “all in it together”, I’m sure the entire cost will come from the combined earnings of Wills and Kate and their family and not a penny from the public purse. Surely?

Doubtless, over the next few months, the likes of me will be shoved into our own grouchy, grumbling corner while the rest of the populous start to celebrate so before I’m marched off, let me just point out that there are more important things to worry about. The Irish economy is collapsing and might take the EU with it, an incompetent Alaskan housewife is about start running for the US Presidency and people are still dying for “Queen and country” in the Middle east every day. In the greater scheme of things, one family’s nuptial celebrations should be small beer to everyone but them.